


What You Need is Some Vitamin Me

by dedougal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: cottoncandy_bingo, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has the worst pick up lines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Need is Some Vitamin Me

**Author's Note:**

> For the Pick Up Line prompt on my Cotton Candy bingo card. Nearing the end - only two more to go. Just as well there's the multi-pairings bingo that transfixeddream's running coming up. This was inspired by the amazing Miya_Morana *kisses*

“I’m going to rip out your throat if you don’t shut up.” Derek was glaring but the glaring thing was more like a charming personality quirk than anything nowadays. If you were Stiles. It still seemed to have some impact on Isaac who immediately stopped trying to talk his way through his Econ homework.

Stiles turned round to face Derek and scowled back at him. Derek looked unimpressed for a moment before his face fell. “Sorry. I’ll just-“

“You do that.” Stiles turned around again and had the fun experience of seeing Isaac and Scott knock their head together over their textbook and grin. Stiles shrugged. Then he felt weird at their closeness.

Derek was in the bit of the train depot he liked to spar in, throwing punches at a reinforced beam. “I thought you were studying.”

“I’m done.” Stiles was only partly lying. His homework was far from done but he knew the stuff. He’d finish it up later-ish. “I thought we could have a little talk about manners.”

Derek threw a punch that connected so hard it shook the beam. “I don’t-“

“Threatening the lives of people who are just doing homework is not polite, Mr Scary Bad Wolf.” Derek scowled, his eyebrows drawing together. “Just saying. Okay. You need some new lines. Like ‘Isaac, remember that I have sensitive wolfy ears and don’t need to hear your enormous crush on Scott’. Like that.”

Derek punched the beam again. The sad thing was that Stiles kinda wanted to join in.

 

“Are your legs tired? Because you been running through my mind _all_ day long.” Stiles looked up at Derek, who was scowling. Again. Then the words ran through his mind again.

“What?” Stiles hadn’t exactly asked to be pinned under Derek. It just seemed that when they were training, that he seemed to be paired off with Derek in some weird way. Not in the sexy way that was definitely featuring more and more in Stiles’ dreams. But, you know, creepy.

“You need to run faster, Stiles. Away from the pointy teeth and claws.” Derek rolled off and ended up lying on his back beside Stiles. Who was still gawping at him.

“Are you…? Did you just try out a _line_ on me?” Stiles looked around the isolated clearing he had managed, thank you very much, to run to without being caught. There were no sounds from anyone else in their ragtag bunch that he could pick up. With his pathetic human ears. He returned to watching Derek very, extremely, carefully.

Derek was going red. “You told me to get some new ones.” His mouth was doing that thing where he was either fighting a smile or a grimace. It was hard to tell. There was a fair amount of lip twitching going on. Stiles lay in the damp leaves and let his breathing return to normal. Nope. He had nothing.

 

“I know this is going to sound like a line, but did that sound like a line? Are you disappointed?” Derek leaned over the computer and breathed over Stiles’ shoulder. He’d muttered the words but he was so close that Stiles heard it clearly. Stiles tried the whole counting for ten thing (it hadn’t been successful when he’d been a kid but who knew? It might work now). He got to six and turned his head to land Derek with a disbelieving stare.

Well. That was the plan.

Stiles realised that when he turned his head, he was basically drawing his lips across the stubble on Derek’s cheek. His nose nearly poked Derek in the ear, drawing across the curve. Stiles jerked back. That was a good plan, because Derek turned his head and, had Stiles kept his head right where it was, their lips came within a whisper of meeting. In a kiss. In a way that couldn’t be construed as anything other than a kiss. Which was all Stiles could now think about. It was weird. He wasn’t used to that – his brain being completely focused on a single idea. Normally he had about four, five, eight different things whirling through in a galaxy of firing neurons.

His entire brain was just filled with the idea of him and Derek and lips. And then his brain seemed to move onto other body parts touching. And then his brain must have gone offline again as he leaned forward, mouth parted. He could feel Derek’s breath, warm and a hint of damp, on his lips. Derek huffed out a sigh and leaned back. “Just-“ 

Stiles returned to his open browser and tried to get his brain to work again. This is was so Derek’s fault.

 

“Do you have a boyfriend? Would you like one?” The Jeep was not the most comfortable of cars to use for a stakeout. Derek’s Camaro was just a little too noticeable though. People cooed over it. Women and men attempted to drape themselves on it. Derek growled at people who even looked at it. So. Jeep.

“I think that’s a little personal, dude.” Stiles absently replied as he slurped some more soda from his straw. Derek was glaring at him when he let his eyes slide over. “And you should be watching for, I don’t know, hunters or rogue werewolves.”

“I was listening for them.” Derek still settled back, slumping down in the seat. If his eyes were lasers – hey, they were red and that was totally a laser colour – there would have been a neat hole in Stiles’ windscreen.

Stiles finished his drink, making sure he sucked extra hard to get the last few drops of liquid out and enjoying the wincing Derek made at the noise. What? He was totally a dick sometimes and he liked it. When he was done tormenting Derek’s sensitive ears, he stuck the cup behind his seat and settled in. “I don’t, by the way.”

“Don’t what?”

“Have a boyfriend.” Stiles kneaded the denim over his thighs. “I’m seventeen. Of course I’d like one. I mean. Scott is all uber-straight but he and Isaac have this epic bromance thing going on. I’m sure there’d be, like, orgasms, if Scott opened his eyes. Jackson and Lydia are sickening. Like. Really. Ditto Erica and Boyd. And there’s not like the dating opportunities are massive. So many guys, so many Dannys to mop them up.” Stiles looked over to see Derek narrowing his eyes. “I’m not exactly a catch. Then there’s the whole Sheriff’s son thing which is just another reason preventing guys wanting to defile me. In good ways. With the notable exception of Peter and we just don’t want to think about that.”

Stiles wished he had some soda left. His throat was suddenly dry. What was with the oversharing anyway? It wasn’t like Derek Hale had a sign saying Good Listener. But Derek wasn’t threatening him or telling him to shut up. Instead Derek held out his own soda and let Stiles take a sip. “Hmm.”

“What?”

Derek rolled his head on the seat and looked over. “What?”

“You just hmmm’d and I thought you had a point or something.” Derek turned back to look out of the window and Stiles did the same. Just in time to see a familiar looking SUV peel out of an underground parking garage. He gunned the Jeep, praying the SUV wasn’t turbo charged or anything. Then they were bouncing along the road in pursuit, too busy to talk anymore.

That was sort of a relief.

 

“What do you like for breakfast?” Stiles was sprawled on his bed and Derek was in the seat Stiles mainly thought of as Derek’s. They’d both banged their heads pretty hard against the concrete floor of the disreputable warehouse that the hunters had been storing cages in. With werewolves in the cages. Like some experimental lab. Derek had healed instantly but Stiles was apparently in danger of a concussion. Thus the Derek watch.

He could use the word thus correctly. There was no way in hell he was concussed. But it still seemed like Derek was determined to spend the night glaring at him from the chair. “I could just watch movies and call if I throw up everywhere or something. Or we could skype.”

Derek didn’t move.

“Pancakes. Or waffles. And crispy bacon.” Stiles raised his hand in the air to list off his favourites. “Then sausage patties. Not like-“ He described a link in the air with his hand, stopping when he realised how much like an obscene gesture it looked. “Fresh apple juice. And bananas sliced long not across.”

Derek didn’t answer him. Stiles had his head tilted up on his pillows and was watching Derek for any clues to how he should respond. Derek’s face wore an expression Stiles didn’t know how to interpret.

“Are we back to the bad pick up lines again? That’s kinda classic, admittedly. Simple and pure. I was meaning you should try to be more encouraging and less life-threatening-y. But these work. It’s like you’re getting ready for the big bad world all on your own by practising on me. Which is cool.” Stiles knew he definitely wasn’t concussed. He wouldn’t be able to string together all these words. On the other hand, the pain was definitely making him loopy. “It’s almost like do you like raisins? How about a date? I remember Scott using that one on Natalie Parnell and getting punched. She had a fruit allergy though.”

“Yes.” Derek didn’t say anything else. He just let the word hang there, in the air between them.

“Yes? What does that mean? That you’re trying out these lines on me for the woman who you’re going to make lots of little wolfy babies with? Is that a-“ Derek moved so quickly that Stiles didn’t really have much of a chance to react. Derek was suddenly very, very, intimidatingly close, kneeling over Stiles on the bed. Straddling him. With his elbows framing Stiles’ head on the pillow. Stiles couldn’t move. Well. Most of him couldn’t. His dick definitely started to react to Derek’s whole nearness and straddling and oh god his mouth was close. Stiles tried to drag his eyes up to look Derek in the eye but he was caught on Derek’s mouth. 

His lips.

Which were coming closer.

Oh.

Stiles gave in to the kiss, opening his mouth a little and just enjoying the taste/feel/smell/everything of Derek and his mouth and his hands and the way he oh so carefully pressed down into Stiles, every movement slow and deliberate. Stiles’ hands finally got in on the action, sliding across Derek’s shoulders, along his biceps, to the small of his back, to the waistband of his ridiculous jeans. Stiles knew he moaned when Derek’s hips jerked at the brush of Stiles’ fingers against bare skin.

Stiles knew his mouth was red and puffy when Derek pulled back. He ran his tongue over them, soothing. Possibly taunting Derek who looked right at them and gave an actual perceptible shudder.

“Rules: no more bad pick up lines, lots of kissing?” Stiles finally gave into the urge to wind his fingers into the back of Derek’s hair, pull him closer again.

“Yes,” Derek said, speaking the word into Stiles’ mouth as they kissed again.


End file.
